


Pinkies Never Lie: A Christmas Drabble

by emma1234



Series: Pinkies Never Lie [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Actor Louis, Anal Sex, Baker Harry, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Photographer Harry, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 11:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17181827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma1234/pseuds/emma1234
Summary: Between the baked goods required for holiday parties and the endless stream of Christmas card photoshoots, December is always a challenging month for Harry at work. That's why this year, Louis came up with a brilliant plan to take his mind off things.





	Pinkies Never Lie: A Christmas Drabble

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this drabble on Tumblr a few days ago, but after someone suggested that I post it on here to reach the largest audience possible, I figured that might be a good idea. If you've already read it on Tumblr and enjoyed it, please give me kudos or leave a comment! If you haven't, I hope you enjoy, and if you do, please let me know.
> 
> Happy Holidays, everyone!

As Harry’s best friend of several years and boyfriend of more than two years, Louis has thankfully received plenty of prior warning as to how absolutely horrible the month of December is for Harry.

It’s day after day of last-minute Christmas card photoshoots, which often involve short-tempered parents, children wearing adorable Christmas outfits that they despise, and ultimately, an abundance of tears, tantrums, and yelling. Barbara’s Bakery is also absolute hell at this time of year, with everyone rushing in to request every type of goodie imaginable for their Christmas parties. Tempers are always running high, and no matter how cheerful Harry is at the start of every day, he returns home in the evening feeling grumpy and stressed.

This year, though…this year, Louis has concocted a plan.

He wasn’t able to concoct it alone, of course. The idea first originated from a Friday night discussion with Liam, Niall, Zayn, Sophia, and Gigi when they were drinking in Louis’ and Harry’s apartment while Harry was picking them up another six-pack of beer. The boys were somewhat disgusted by the conversation, but Sophia and Gigi were all in. 

( _“This is more information about your sex life than I ever wanted or needed,” Zayn said._

_“Same, but tell me more,” Niall added._

_Zayn’s glare was response enough to that._

_“Ooh, I know this online boutique that would be perfect,” Gigi said._

_Sophia similar lit up with excitement, and that’s when Liam had taken his cue to leave the room to go heat up some leftover spring rolls._

_By the time Harry had returned, beer in hand, the plan had been formed._ )

Next, Louis recruits his wardrobe stylist to help, as she’s someone he’s become close with since he began filming the TV series. Bebe had the connections he needed for a great costume, so she hooks him up with a discounted and high-quality version of what he’d envisioned wearing since speaking to his friends about it. When it’s delivered to set one day, she hands it to him in a discreet bag while he’s in hair and makeup and then waves off his thank yous.

The other part of the outfit, the more scandalous part, Louis orders from the online boutique that Gigi recommended. He has it delivered at a time when he knows Harry will be at work, and when he receives it, he immediately tucks it away at the bottom of his sock drawer for safekeeping.

Harry’s so exhausted by work that he’s not even suspicious about the fact that for once, Louis has been putting his laundry away immediately rather than waiting days (or even weeks) for Harry to give in and do it for him. Now, Louis is doing anything and everything to avoid Harry figuring out his plan.

The plan is well executed, in Louis’ humble opinion, but he won’t know if it’s a total success until the Saturday night before Christmas.

Louis devotes the Saturday in question to finishing up wrapping their presents and adding some finishing touches to their Christmas decor. Harry tends to be better at wrapping presents, but Louis removes the burden from his shoulders this year so he doesn’t rip all the beautiful curls out of his head due to stress. And Louis’ entire family is coming over for Christmas dinner for the first time, so he wants to make sure their flat is decked out in every type of Christmas decoration imaginable before they arrive.

At around 6PM, Louis begins preparing for Harry’s arrival. Liam is nice enough to drop off some Chinese food from down the block, which Louis sticks in the fridge for when they inevitably get hungry later in the evening. Harry finally has a day off the next day, so Louis isn’t worried about them staying up late.

Louis hasn’t tried on either of the outfits in advance, so he’s a little nervous when he retreats into the bathroom to finally put them on. It takes a lot of tugging and adjusting before he feels like he’s even slightly presentable, and when he looks in the mirror after a fifteen minute battle with fabric, half of him wants to smirk and half of him wants to bury his face in the sand. 

At least everything fits him without cutting off the circulation to any of his limbs. It could always be worse, and that’s something Louis is reminding himself of.

This isn’t normally something he’d do. Honestly, under ordinary circumstances, Louis would probably roll his eyes or fake gag if he heard about one of his friends doing this. But this is his boyfriend, the man he loves more than anyone on this planet, and he’s confident that this will work, one way or another.

Harry arrives home just as expected a few minutes after 6:30. The telltale sign, of course, is the shuffling of Harry’s pigeon-toed boot feet through the entryway of their flat and the deep sigh once the door closes behind him.

When Louis is in a bad mood, he’s more dramatic — he loves going for the slamming of doors, the endless whining, and when the situation is particularly dire, yelling at the top of his lungs — but Harry tends to stew quietly. Quite frankly, Louis finds that 1000 times more dangerous.

Louis listens the jingle of Harry’s keys when he places them on hook by the door and the thud of his camera bag when he drops it on the floor nearby. However, it’s not until Harry lets out a second dejected sigh once he’s entered the living room that Louis chooses to finally make his entrance.

For a moment, Harry doesn’t even notice him. He’s glancing down at the cover of a magazine that Louis left sitting on the coffee table and shrugging out of his jacket, so he barely registers that someone else has entered the room.

When Louis clears his throat loudly, Harry finally glances toward him.

Immediately, the room falls into silence. Harry’s expression is entirely blank as he takes in the sight of Louis’ fluffy red top (with a built-in Santa Claus belly), matching pants, black boots, a thick black belt, a white beard, and finally, a red Santa hat. Bebe went all out to get her hands on this ridiculous Santa Claus costume and it was probably used in some famous Christmas movie from the past, but Harry looks thoroughly unimpressed.

“Baby,” Harry says, his voice thin in the way it only does when he’s really annoyed. “I love you. But after the day I’ve had, I’m not really in the mood for whatever joke you have planned.”

Louis keeps the big smile on his face, undeterred by Harry’s mood. He’s fully aware of how much of a pain in the arse he’s being at the moment, but he thinks Harry will see that it’s worth it by the end of the night.

“Ho ho ho,” Louis says gruffly, approaching Harry with a walk that he’s decided is appropriate for someone dressed as Santa Claus. It’s even more wide legged than Louis’ usual walk, giving a little extra room for the belly, but Louis hopes it comes across as unintimidating and jolly.

“Lou,” Harry sighs, dropping his coat onto the arm of the sofa. “Please.”

Louis continues approaching him, dramatizing the walk even further.

“Are you on the naughty list or the nice list this year?” Louis asks, still speaking in a voice several octaves deeper than his usual tone.

At that, Harry sits down on the sofa, immediately burying his face in his hands. Louis almost feels bad for driving him crazy, but he knows his boyfriend better than anyone in the world, and he knows he’ll come out on top in the end.

“Louis,” Harry says again, his head still buried in his hands. “I’m not really interested in role-playing with Santa tonight.”

Louis sighs dramatically, pretending he’s about to give up the act, but he’s secretly pleased that this is going exactly as he predicted it would. It’s a credit to his acting skills that he doesn’t immediately expose how smug he is at Harry’s reaction to his Santa costume.

“Alright,” Louis says. He’s dropped his Santa imitation voice and is back in his regular one, but he makes sure to sound disappointed. “I get it. You’re not in the mood.” Louis lets out a long sigh.

Louis can tell that Harry immediately feels a mixture of relief and guilt — relief because he definitely doesn’t want to deal with Louis in a ridiculous Santa costume tonight, but guilt because he doesn’t want to ruin Louis’ fun.

Louis has Harry exactly where he wants him.

“Sorry, baby,” Harry says, still seated on the couch. “I’m just so tired.”

Louis nods understandingly and pulls the Santa hat off his head, quickly taking a moment to adjust his fringe. Harry chooses that moment to lean back on the couch, his head resting against the cushion behind him, and lets his eyes slip closed.

“I get it,” Louis says sadly, yanking the beard off as well. He slowly starts peeling the different components of his outfit and dropping them on the floor — the huge belt, the boots, the red top with the fake belly, and finally, the pants. Louis thinks it’s almost better that Harry isn’t watching him like it’s some kind of slow strip tease. The element of surprise is going to be the best part.

“I’ll just go in our room and leave you alone,” Louis says, and just as he anticipated, Harry’s eyes immediately shoot open.

“No, baby, that’s not what I—” Harry begins, but he cuts himself off abruptly as soon as he sees what Louis now looks like. “Um.”

Louis smirks.

“Off to bed for me,” he says, now playing it up. He turns around slowly, giving Harry a good glimpse of every inch of his skin, still golden even now that they’re months out of summer. There’s a little red bow on the center of his chest, just above his tattoo, in the place that Harry most loves to nibble. More importantly, he’s wearing a pair of red panties — a pair that is mesh in the front with sequin letters and a sequin outline of a Christmas stocking on the back.

As Louis begins to walk away, he swings his hips even more than usual, ensuring that Harry won’t be able to look away. He knows without turning his head that Harry’s eyes are glued to his arse, and even more importantly, to the words across it, just above the outline of the stocking.

**_IT’S NOT GONNA STUFF ITSELF_ **

Louis hears the gulp of his boyfriend behind him, and he can’t keep the smug look off his face as he walks away, just as Harry begins his protests. The sofa creaks as Harry gets up, and Louis’ smugness only grows.

“Baby, wait,” Harry says, and before Louis has the chance to even think about turning around, he’s being spun. Mission accomplished. 

“You aren’t in the mood,” Louis says, looking down in some imitation of bashfulness that he knows Harry will never believe under these circumstances.

Harry swallows hard again as Louis looks up at him through his lashes, and Louis watches as Harry’s eyes move from his softly tussled fringe all the way down his body, lingering when they reach the bow at the top of his chest and again when they reach the panties.

“I’m in the mood,” Harry says earnestly, leaning down to kiss Louis. “I’m seriously so in the mood.” As if Louis can’t already tell that from the hardness pressing against his lower stomach.

Louis isn’t giving up this act that easily though.

“Nah,” he says, shrugging out of Harry’s hold and continuing his swaying toward the bedroom. “I never want to make you feel obligated, babe.”

Louis hears Harry mutter an obscenity under his breath and smirks, but he immediately shutters his expression when he reaches the door to their bedroom. He turns around, intending to give Harry one last smouldering look.

It’s when Louis is turning around again that he suddenly starts to realize how fucking itchy the sequins are against the skin of his arse. There’s the mesh layer that the sequins are glued to, but it’s barely creating a barrier, and Louis wants nothing more than to scratch. That’s why when tries to smoulder at Harry, he ends up offering up an expression that more closely resembles a wince.

He’s close enough to lean against the door frame, so he does a little wiggle against it, hoping the pressure of the door will relieve some of the itch.

For a second, Harry doesn’t react, but then he gives out an embarrassing honk of laughter that has Louis feeling immediately offense.

“Sorry,” Harry says, hand flying to his mouth to cover it. “I’m just — Louis, baby, are the sequins starting to itch?”

Louis frowns and crosses his arms across his chest.

“No,” he says, lying through his teeth.

Harry smirks and starts walking toward him, but Louis just continues backing into the bedroom, even in the dark. When Harry reaches the doorway, he flicks the light switch on and continues following Louis, backing him into the room until Louis’ legs hit the back of the bed. The force of it catches him off balance and leaves him tumbling backwards onto it.

Louis is graceful enough to land on the bed unexpectedly without looking like a total fool, but Harry still has a look of total amusement on his face, which doesn’t bode well considering Louis hoped to be oozing sex right now.

“They are itchy, aren’t they?” Harry says, voice smug. “You look sexy as hell, but I’m guessing that you’re not very comfortable right now.”

Louis feels a small flicker of heat in his belly at that, but he’s still not admitting that the panties are itchy.

“I’m fine,” Louis huffs, scooting his bum back on the bed with the intention of burying himself under the covers until Harry leaves him alone.

“You’re forgetting how often I’ve worn outfits with sequins,” Harry says, laughing. “And how often I see toddlers cry over the sequin outfits their parents force them into for photoshoots. I just saw a 3-year-old girl today who had a tantrum and pulled off the itchy sequined tutu her mom had her in.”

Louis shrugs.

“Your itchy sequin experiences aren’t really my problem, darling,” Louis says.

Harry clicks his tongue against his teeth a few times and then smiles again, dimples on full display.

“My everything is your problem,” he says. “And your everything is my problem, so how ‘bout you drop this act and let me relieve you of the itch.”

Harry waggles his eyebrows obnoxiously. Louis stares. 

Harry begins stripping off his shirt, a Hawaiian button-down that isn’t even close to appropriate for the season. Or London like, ever. The shirt gets tossed into a heap of clothing that Harry will probably fold later, knowing him, and it’s immediately followed by Harry’s boots, tight jeans, and finally, his boxer briefs.

“Fine,” Louis says, trying to keep his eyes level with Harry’s, but finding it increasingly difficult. “You can,” he says, adding air quotes, “relieve me of my itch.” Harry smirks and throws himself down on the bed.

“And stuff your stocking,” Harry says, his big hands immediately finding the edges of the panties and yanking them down.

Louis groans, shimmying until Harry’s able to pull the panties off his feet. “It sounds gross when you phrase it like that. Stop.”

Harry just laughs and maneuvers his body until he’s on top of Louis, arms holding himself up so he doesn’t crush his boyfriend. He leans down for a full kiss now, finally, and Louis sighs into it happily. This, in the end, is what Louis really wanted. Harry, unstressed and happy, his body draped on top of Louis’, kissing him like there’s no tomorrow.

“Y’ gonna fuck me?” Louis asks, pulling back from the kiss briefly.

“Yeah, baby,” Harry says, leaning away from Louis just enough to reach the lube on the night table. One of them should probably remember to tuck it back inside the drawer next time in case someone walks in their bedroom and sees a little more than they wanted to, but it’s not like their friends and family members aren’t already well aware of what sex fiends they are.

“I’m gonna,” Harry begins, but Louis throws his hand over his mouth before he has time to say anything else.

“Say you’re going to stuff my stocking again and I’m getting up and leaving this room,” Louis says. He’s only half joking.

Harry snorts and pulls the lube toward him, squeezing a liberal amount on his fingers and rubbing them together just enough to warm it up.

“You asked for it when you bought those,” Harry says, leaning in to nip at Louis’ neck quickly. It sends a shiver down Louis’ spine.

“I give you an inch, and you take a mile,” Louis says, mimicking what Harry always says to Louis when he’s being a brat. “And anyway, I was just trying to cheer you up during your worst month of the year.”

Harry moves down Louis’ body, kissing every few inches as he goes, and he finally comes to a stop when he reaches Louis’ tummy. Louis looks up at the ceiling as he feels Harry’s fingers prodding at his opening, willing himself to keep it together. It’s been more than two years of this with Harry, but it still blows his mind to the point where it’s embarrassing. Or at least, it would be if it weren’t obvious that Harry’s in the same exact boat.

“Ready?” Harry asks quietly, and Louis just nods, knowing that Harry’s looking up at him even checking.

Harry begins fingering Louis open then, as slowly and thoroughly as ever, and he starts talking as he does. Louis tries to focus on what Harry’s saying, but it’s hard when Harry’s fingers keep brushing against his prostate and then slipping out and circling his entrance, again and again and again.

“Love that you did this for me, baby,” Harry says. “You always know how to take care of me in the best ways. Always have, even before I came to my senses. But you know December isn’t my least favorite month.“

Louis shivers again as Harry pushes a third finger in alongside the other two, scissoring them gently to finish prepping him for Harry’s cock.

“All the tantrums and bitchy parents and holiday parties,” Louis says, slurring his words slightly as he tries to disagree.

“Yeah, but my baby was born this month,” Harry says, affection bleeding into his voice, and Louis really wants to roll his eyes, but Harry chooses that moment to pull his fingers out and slick up his cock.

Louis blinks a few times as Harry positions himself above him, holding the tip of his cock right at Louis’ entrance. Louis may not have gotten into this situation exactly as he planned, but clearly, he did something right tonight.

“Best month of the year,” Harry says as he pushes in, and Louis’ eyes go wide before falling closed. With how busy Harry’s been the last couple of weeks, they haven’t had much time to cuddle, let alone have sex, so it’s been just long enough that the sting feels almost the same as the first time.

“Love you,” Louis says, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and letting his fingers tangle in Harry’s hair, which is already messy after such a long and tiring day. Louis moans as Harry pushes in particularly deep, and he lets his nails dig into Harry’s scalp hard enough to hear a returning groan.

“Love you so much,” Harry says, lowering his face down for a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue than lips, and Louis returns it accordingly.

It’s barely been ten minutes before Louis feels the tightening in his belly that indicates he’s close, but the entire point of this night was to aid in Harry’s pleasure and stress relief, so he needs Harry to get off first.

“No, babe,” Louis says when Harry starts to reach for Louis’ dick, which he’s probably felt leaking against his stomach for the past few minutes. “You first. This is supposed to be a gift to you.”

Harry shakes his head. He readjusts his weight onto one arm and uses the other hand the flick at the red bow on Louis’ chest, somehow still holding on for dear life even with the slickness of their sweat.

“You’re my gift,” Harry says, kissing him again as he starts to jerk Louis off, and for a moment, Louis is too caught up in his own pleasure to push Harry off again. By the time his brain tunes back in, it’s too late, and Louis can feel himself being pushed over the edge, come splattering against Harry’s stomach.

Harry stops thrusting for a moment, not wanting to hurt him, and Louis takes the opportunity to throw a light smack at his sweaty chest.

“You’re such a pain in the arse,” he says, huffing.

“In your—” Harry starts, but Louis holds up one finger. He may have just came and he may feel absolutely amazing right now, but Louis is never in the mood to hear Harry make the same joke he’s made a million times before. Never.

“Don’t say it,” Louis says, shoving at Harry’s chest until he flips over onto his back on the bed beside Louis. Louis has almost always preferred to let Harry take control in bed, but clearly, Harry sucks at receiving gifts. That means it’s up to Louis to end this night the way he intended.

“I’m sucking your dick now,” Louis says, slinking down Harry’s body. “Because you’re bad at accepting gifts and now I’m mad.”

Harry gives an out of breath huff of laughter, giving away just how affected he is, and Louis doesn’t give him any further warning before swallowing him down.

Harry can be really talkative in bed when he wants to be, knowing exactly what to say to push on Louis’ buttons enough to get him hot, bothered, and off. It’s when Harry stops talking that Louis knows how overwhelmed he is by Louis’ body taking him in, whether it’s his fist, his mouth, or his arse, and that’s a pretty good indication of how close Harry is to coming. 

Harry tastes like flavorless lube, which isn’t ideal, but Louis doesn’t care. He licks up Harry’s dick like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted and then immediately swallows him down again, going back and forth between the motions until Harry has no idea what to expect next. He’s got Harry right down his throat when he feels Harry squeeze his shoulder in warning.

Please.

Louis hasn’t dated this boy for this long just to pull off when Harry comes. Instead, he lowers his mouth onto Harry’s dick further to prevent anything from spilling out of his mouth and swallows it all down, loving the way Harry’s hips jerk out of sensitivity when Louis finally slurps his way off again.

“Merry Christmas,” Louis says when he finally catches his breath. He touches his own lips, which he can feel are swollen and slick with come.

“’s not Christmas yet, baby,” Harry says. His eyes are barely open, but he’s still reaching his hands out for Louis to come cuddle him.

Louis does, of course, laying down and leaning his head against Harry’s chest, turning his face inwards to give him a quick kiss on the skin there. They’re both a mess and definitely need to shower, change the sheets, and eat Chinese food before they actually go to sleep, but for now, this is perfect.

“…But it’s never too early to stuff your stocking,” Harry adds, and when Louis looks up at his face, that shit-eating grin is back his face.

Harry’s lucky Louis doesn’t make him sleep on the sofa for that.

 

\--

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this drabble, please give kudos and leave a comment with your feedback.
> 
> If you want to find me on Tumblr, you can [here.](http://lads-laddylads.tumblr.com)
> 
> If you'd like to reblog the post with this drabble on Tumblr, you can find it [here.](http://lads-laddylads.tumblr.com/post/181418172068/as-promised-heres-a-christmas-drabble-for-my-fic)
> 
>  **Note:** I'm not authorizing translations at this time. Also, please do not repost this fic on any other site.


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